


Once upon a time, we burnt bright

by LadyGloucester



Category: The White Queen (TV)
Genre: F/M, Love, Rescue, Sex, War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-17
Updated: 2014-05-17
Packaged: 2018-01-25 12:00:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,127
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1647902
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyGloucester/pseuds/LadyGloucester
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>All became a blur. She heard the sound of her skirt torn up, the pain of her hair being pulled mercilessly, nails scraping her skin, fingers twisting her wrists, hands spreading her legs apart…</p>
            </blockquote>





	Once upon a time, we burnt bright

**Author's Note:**

> This is another view of 'The White Queen' episode 5, if my memory is to be trusted. What I would have liked to see when Richard rescues Anne, and what would happen afterwards...

She knew it. Deep inside, Anne knew her husband was dead and the battle lost, long before the messenger came to inform her and Margaret of Anjou of it. The queen militant received the news coldly, as she prepared to flee the battlefield, but Anne was tired of following her around England, always afraid of getting killed, kidnapped or even worse. She was his father's daughter, and she was done running away.

"Get a blanket, some bread and water and meet me at the stables." The queen started walking away, but not hearing Anne moving made her stopped on her tracks. 

"No, Your Grace. I am done hiding, and running, and fearing for my life. I am not leaving the abbey." 

After Anne said the words, she felt a relief she had never felt before. Almost as being free for the first time of her life. Actually, this was the first time in her life she decided what she wanted to to with it.

Margaret of Anjou held her arms and shook her, as if to wake her of a dream.

"Anne, this is a battlefield. Look at me! The soldiers will lay waste to this abbey and you will be dishonored in ways you can't even imagine. Running away is the only way to fight tomorrow. If you stay… Well, I won't stay with you. You are on your own." 

She looked in her eyes, and in the last year they had spent together, Margaret had come to know her well enough to realize Anne had made up her mind. And she wasn't willing to change.

"Fine. Do as you please."

Anne allowed herself one last look at her mother-in-law before turning her back on her to get ready. She trusted that, since the abbey was a holy place, she was considered to be in sanctuary. But when the doors broke down and the soldiers came inside like a horde, her strength floundered. In a world were justice would prevail, no one could enter an abbey this way. Anne started to regret not leaving with Margaret of Anjou, and she started to walk backwards, to no avail.

When the troops noticed her presence, they left the nuns aside and run into her. Anne froze on the spot, not knowing was coming, until a bunch of brutal, dirty hands grabbed her. And she started screaming.

All became a blur. She heard the sound of her skirt torn up, the pain of her hair being pulled mercilessly, nails scraping her skin, fingers twisting her wrists, hands spreading her legs apart… She tasted blood in her mouth when someone punched her in the jaw, and the world started spinning around her.

She knew what was going to happen. And she couldn't find the strength to fight back. This Anne was beyond redemption, she was not the little girl in love with her dark-haired cousin, who loved to climb trees whenever her mother wasn't looking. That little girl had crossed the channel in the middle of a storm, had seen her sister losing her first born son, had married and endured a monster whose mother hated her as much as her son did. And yet… she survived. She had survived hell to die by the hands of beasts.

No.

"No!!!!" Anne reacted, started to scream and punch and revolve. She kicked with a strength she did not know she had inside. She threw her elbows against the faces of the men surrounding her, and for a second, she thought she would manage to escape. But then, she felt a knife against her throat and a drooling whisper in her ear.

"Stop moving, you treacherous cunt. Or we will fuck your corpse instead."

She looked the man in the eye, feeling the cold blade against her soft skin and was ready to throw herself against it when suddenly, something happened to that man's face. Where the mouth used to be filled with disgusting, yellow teeth, a sword appeared like a bizarre metal tongue. All of a sudden the other men were either pulled away by this mysterious force of nature or run away by themselves. Those who tried to remain where they were met a similar fate as the first one.

The sun was shining behind that savior, so she didn't get to recognize his face. She even thought she had already died and that was heaven. But when she accepted the hand he offered to her, the contact made her feel completely alive. And when she managed to stood up, her eyes couldn't believe what they were seeing.

"Richard… Is this you?"

"Lady Anne…" His voice was filled with something she could not identify. His face was stained with blood from the men he had just killed, and she could see that his right arm had suffered a deep cut from a sword. 

"Princess Anne, I'm princess Anne now…"

"Dowager princess." He pointed out coldly. 

Unconsciously, Anne looked at the hand Richard still held in his, where the ring her husband had put in her finger when they married was covered in blood. She pulled her hand away, and slowly took the wedding ring out of her finger. Anne watched it one last time, before throwing it away into the air, as far as she could with a cry she wasn't aware she was producing.

The long scream echoed against the walls of the abbey, and Anne felt a rage she had hidden inside of her chest during all the events that had changed her life in the last years. When she was out of breath, she felt her knees fail before Richard grabbed her, holding her dearly, and kneeling with her on the grass. Her eyes were filled with tears of anger, as she clang to Richard's armor. 

Anne cried. She cried her heart out. She cried for her dead nephew, for her dead father, for her mother desertion, for her sister's sufferings, and for herself. She cried everything she was unable to cry before if she had to keep going, but feeling Richard's arms around her was like being home for the first time in a long, long time.

 

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It was around midnight. Richard had procured her a safe room at the abbey, where no one would disturb her. He asked her to stay and rest, and promised to be back as soon as he could. But it had been hours and there was no trace of him.

Anne had sat straight on the bed, looking at her hands, for almost all the time she had spent at the chambers. Her hands were dirty, with mud under her nails, a few scratches and dry blood on her knuckles. She was trying to bury deep what she had been about to suffer that evening, and there were moments when Anne still thought she had died. But this feeling of liveliness was more vivid than anything she had felt in the last year. She had to put it aside in order to survive, but now it was starting to take over her soul again.

Her heart almost dropped to the floor when she heard the door opening, but seeing Richard's vigorous figure put her soul at ease again. She stood up, but the movement was too sudden, and dizziness attacked her mercilessly. But Richard was fast and dexterous, and he was able to hold her before she fell to the floor. She realized he was still wearing his armor, stained and dented from the battle.

When Anne regained balance, she slowly pulled away and stood up straight, getting some distance between them. The movement didn't went unnoticed to Richard, who scowled slightly, not letting any other feeling show. In the way to keep Anne from falling to the floor, he had left a few things scattered on it. Richard went back, picking them up. A few pieces of cloth and a small bundle he took from the stoned ground. Anne sat back on the bed and watched him handle those small things. 

First, Richard filled a chipped basin with water from a pitcher. He opened the bundle, and inside there were small jars filled with different ointments. He took one of them, the basin and a piece of cloth and put them on a small table nearby the bed where Anne was sitting. She was so caught by his strong yet delicate hands and how he moved them that she got startled when he stopped them. 

Anne looked at his eyes, which were staring at her, as if asking for permission. A soft smile was drawn on her lips and she nodded, slightly. Richard took her hands and started cleaning them with a care and a tenderness that didn't match his soldier armor. She noticed he was trying to contain the anger inside of him while he cleaned the scratches on her wrists. His jaw was clenched, and his eyes felt cold as ice.

Then he tended to her neck, and Anne moved it slowly to let him clean wherever he needed to. His touch was feather-like, and the coolness of the cloth was making her feel much better. As if with every stroke, all the pain went away. Richard then blushed, all of a sudden, and Anne was bewildered. He was looking down, waiting for her to realize he needed to clean her bust, or at least, the part of it that was exposed through the broken dress. 

Anne found it so sweet she couldn't help but to caress his face with the tips of her fingers. Richard looked her back and grabbed her hand where it was, against his cheek, and gave it a soft kiss on the palm. Anne stood up then and turn her back on Richard.

"Could you please help me…" She whispered.

A few seconds later, she felt Richard's hands slowly unlacing her dress and helping her get out of it. She still had her shift under it, and feeling the weight of the dress leaving her body made her sigh with pleasure. She was exhausted. Anne turned around to sit back on the bed, but as she faced Richard again, she couldn't help but smile amused. 

His eyes were apart, looking aside, and his cheeks were lightly flushed. Some of his curls were stuck to his forehead because of the sweat and the dirt, and he was the vivid image of innocence. Anne put her hand again against his cheek, and slowly pushed it to make him look at her. His eyes fluttered before facing hers, and when he noticed her smile, he couldn't help but let a small chuckle leave his lips.

Anne sat back and Richard cleaned the upper part of her chest with even more attentiveness than before. When he finished, he started cleaning her legs. His ankles first, then her knees, that were badly injured, and then he went up to her thighs. The fight to keep her legs together had paid off, but her skin was scratched, and bruises were starting to get purple. 

But what was about to happen, Anne didn't expect it. She could feel Richard's jaw so clenched she thought he was going to break his teeth, but when she looked at his eyes, she saw them filled of tears. Tears of anger, helplessness and frustration. She grabbed his face with both hands and made him look at her. At first he was trying to avoid her stare, but she didn't give up, and when their eyes met, his tears finally dropped.

"Shh… Richard…"

"I was too late, I… I should have come faster…" His voice, lowered by the years, still had the innocence and naivety it had when they first met at Middleham, just a couple of children with no idea of the world around them.

"Richard, don't. You weren't too late. You were just in time. I don't… Well, I do know what could have happened if you hadn't arrived, so don't blame yourself. I decided to stay there and not fleeing. So don't blame yourself, please. It breaks my heart to see you suffer because of me…"

Anne closed the distance between them and hugged him tenderly, feeling his strong armored arms around her holding her as if he wouldn't ever let her go. She pulled away slightly and kissed each tear he had dropped, and he got to smile at the nice feeling of her lips against his wet skin.

Richard recomposed and cleaned the cloth before focusing on Anne's face. Her cheek was starting to turn to purple, and one of her eyebrows had an ugly cut. He could feel her eyes gazing into his, even though he was concentrated on cleaning each and every wound. His delicate Anne, his dearest friend, his first and only love… He didn't allow himself to think about what she had been through, or he couldn't stop the tears from falling again. When he finished cleaning, he took the ointment and applied it with the tip of his finger. Anne squirmed slightly at the sting of the medicine, and Richard stopped right on his tracks, until Anne nodded softly.

Her lovely face… Richard hadn't seen her since he had to exile himself in Burgundy. Once he had dreamt of marrying her, his dearest friend, his first and only love. He knew Edward would've agreed to it, but then Warwick decided to rebel against the throne and it had all gone sour. But now she was a widow, and he was still unmarried. Something he had kept this way as a vow. He would not marry anyone, if he could not have the love of his life.

Richard didn't realize he had stopped applying the ointment, and was only staring at her eyes. She smiled at him and he smiled back, letting the happiness of having her close settle in his heart for the first time. But she frowned suddenly, and she stood up surprising him.

"Richard, you had taken care of me and you still wear your armor… And that wound in your arm!"

The truth is that Richard had forgotten he was still wearing his armor. He had even forgotten the pain in his arm, and unconsciously he had kept it close to the body and still, so it wouldn't hurt any more than it already did. He stood up as well, and Anne started to take out his armor as skillfully as she would wear one everyday. His face gave him away.

"I had to learn how to put an armor when I was with… Well. I would have never thought I would help you remove yours… But this made it worth it."

Anne smiled happy, feeling useful for the first time in a long time. She started to take off each part of the armor, paying special attention to the coat of mail that had got stuck into his wound. Richard growled between his teeth when she got it out, and bent down a little to make it easier for Anne to take it finally out through his head. Under the mail he wore padding to soften the blows, and he let her take it out as well, even though he could have perfectly done it by himself. But being taken care by her was an honor he wasn't willing to cut short. When she was finished, he was wearing only a blood stained linen shirt and his breeches.

Anne got a new piece of cloth and repeated the same ritual he had done to her. She cleaned every piece of skin outside his shirt, until he took it off and threw it on the floor relieved. Anne felt a sudden shiver inside at the closeness of his naked skin and the warmth he radiated. He had a few scars, most of them still fresh from the recent war, but she found them beautiful. His pale skin was covered in sweat, but instead of repulsion, she found herself eager to hug him just the way he was in that very moment. His firm muscles showed under his skin on his tight chest and his flat stomach. The muscles on his arms were splendid, and he noticed she had stopped tending to his wounds to examine his body with another eyes. 

Richard felt a wave of desire washed all over his body, and he had to restrain himself so he wouldn't take her to that omnipresent bed in the middle of the room. Anne blinked, as if to bring herself back into her task, and started to clean the deep wound on his arm. He clenched his teeth together and closed his eyes in pain. She wanted to get it done properly and still, she tried to hurry so it wouldn't last any longer than necessary. Once it was cleaned, she broke the hem of her shift, which surprisingly was still quite clean, and improvised a bandage for his arm, after covering the wound with one of the clothes he had brought up before.

When she finished, she left her hands on his arm, feeling Richard's stare on her. Anne knew he wanted him. She wanted him so badly she was sure he would think she was a treacherous... The thought brought tears to her eyes, and Richard faced her and grabbed her face lightly, his eyes intensely fixed on hers.

"Anne…"

"Richard, let me say this." Anne put her hands over his, and caress them softly. "I have made my peace with my past, and so must you. Because if everything I went through has finally took me to your arms, I welcome it. Every single tear, all the pain, all the frustration, all the hurt is nothing… If I can have you."

"Anne…" Her smiled disarmed him, and he lowered his hands to her waist and embraced her. "You can have me. I've been yours since I saw your little face back in Middleham, the same day I got off my horse. I am yours, and I love you. And nothing, no one will ever take you from me again, if you want to stay by my side."

"I do, Richard. I don't ever want to part from you. I never wanted, and from this day on, I promise you this. I am yours, and you are mine. Forever."

Anne slowly pulled away, sliding her cheek against his, until their faces where inches apart. His eyes were full of love, and something else, darker. A desire that was a mirror of what she was feeling. Richard covered the distance between them, and softly pressed his lips against hers. It was a light, sweet kiss, a perfect first kiss. But Anne felt he was containing his passion, and she entangled her hands in his dark soft curls and pressed herself against him.

It worked. Richard moaned into her mouth and deepened the kiss, biting softly her lips, exploring her mouth with his tongue. That was a sensation she had never experienced, and her knees trembled as she held him stronger to stay on her feet. Richard felt it and made his embrace even tighter, while the kissed seem to extend forever. As if it was all they needed. But it wasn't…

They slowly pulled away from each other's lips, and look intensely in the eyes. Without saying a word, Anne raised her arms, allowing Richard to take of her shift and leave it on the floor, next to his shirt. His hands then went down her spine softly, caressing it with delicacy and affection. Anne got closer to him again, feeling his naked breasts against his skin and closing her eyes in delight. Richard's arms tighten the embrace, and kissed her again. But this time the pace was different. 

He picked her up, her tiny body so easy to lift from the floor, and placed her delicately on top of the bed. It wasn't a regal one, but it was enough to keep them warm and comfortable. He took his time to get to know every inch of her skin. Richard started kissing her neck, caressing slowly the skin underneath, where her chest started to bulk. He felt her shivering at the light touch of his lips and the tips of his fingers, especially when he tended to her breasts.

Anne's breath became deeper, and her hands went straight to Richard's hair, entangling her fingers in his locks. She had dreamt about his hair for years, about touching it, losing her hands between his curls. Anne was about to cry in happiness, but what Richard had just done brought her back to that bed. He had traced a line with his tongue across her belly, and he was blowing softly on the trail, giving her goose pimples and a pleasure beyond her imagination.

Richard smiled when she felt her hands squeezing his hair, and went up again to kiss her lips. He let a little part of his weight on top of Anne, and he found she liked it. Instinctively she surrounded his hips with her legs and kept him stuck to her skin, as if they were going to become one and never part.

He pulled away and looked in her eyes, and what he discovered filled him with excitement. Anne was looking at him like she had never before, melting with desire that just drove her to start unlacing his breeches. There was something inside Richard that worried him about this. He didn't want to force a woman who had been about to be raped a few hours before, but Anne's face had no trace, other than the scratches, of that terrible memory. What's more, she truly seemed to need him the same way he needed her.

Anne's hand unlaced his breeches and pulled them off, letting Richard finish the task. He was on top of her, and she could feel his arousal almost at the very entrance of her core. He had stopped there, trying to guess if she was ready for it. But instead of waiting for her to confirm she was ready, he would rather keep exciting her. Richard knew he was beyond readiness, but he wanted her to enjoy herself as much as it was in his hands.

He rolled to her side, and his hand started to wonder on her belly, caressing it with the tip of his fingers, feeling her every breath and move, until she got used to his touch. Then, Richard lowered his hand even further, exploring the wetness between her legs. Feeling her as aroused as he was almost drove him over the edge. His fingers caressed her creases and valleys, and when he found a a soft spot on them, she had to bite her lips to keep herself from screaming out loud. Richard gave all his attention to that sweet spot while he started kissing her breast, until she grabbed his hand and stopped him.

Richard suddenly felt rejected, and worried that he could have ruined everything. But when he looked at her, her eyes told him a very different story.

"Richard… I want you inside of me. I want to feel this with you…" She muttered, her breath flustered with pleasure.

He obliged, bringing himself back on top of her. Richard fixed his eyes on hers, not wanting to miss a single blink, a single gesture he could cause. He slowly entered her, and he was even more excited by the expression of her face than the feeling of her warmth. Her hands clawed his back, as he thrusted increasingly faster, until he was about to spill inside of her. He held it, until Anne was holding her final scream between her teeth and her nails scratched softly his skin. Richard kissed her deeply, as he felt he finished as well with the last thrusts, moaning inside her mouth.

He slowly pulled away and laid to her side, pulling her as well to hold her. Anne put her head on his shoulder, and her arm crossed his chest. She was agitated, her breath still hadn't paced itself, but her face was gleaming in a way Richard had never seen.

"I don't want this to be over, Richard…"

"And it doesn't have to be, my love. It doesn't… if you allow me to spend the rest of my life beside you." Richard said in a low voice, caressing the skin in her back. Anne straighten up a little bit to see his face, and her smile gave her feelings away.

"You saved my life earlier today, and now you are saving it again…" Her eyes watered with happiness, and she already knew the answer to the question he was about to ask.

"Will you marry me, Anne?"


End file.
